


Kreuzberg

by DisappointMe



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Dudes being stupid and uncommunicative., M/M, Mild Angst, Pining, Romance, Vague mentions of het and other background relationships.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:17:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisappointMe/pseuds/DisappointMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thinks, sometimes, that he’d take it all back if he could.  That he would have played it off, never let himself think this was something they could have.  He thinks, sometimes, that he would have changed things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kreuzberg

**Author's Note:**

> For the Tumblr Anon who gave me the prompt. It was supposed to be a drabble. This is not a drabble. The title is from a Bloc Party song about hookups in Berlin.

Chris’s cheeks burn in the late November chill and he shrugs deeper into his pea coat, the scarf catching in the stubble on his chin and his eyes watering against the breeze. The gravel cracks and crunches beneath his feet, the only other sounds are the slow trickle of the river and the cars crossing the bridge in the distance. He can hear his own breathing, tight and heavy, the heat of his breath puffing white in front of him as he stops by the bench. He tucks his hands into his coat pockets and sits on the right side, staring at the empty space beside him for a moment before turning his eyes to the lights across the river. Above the trees, the dome of the Berlin Cathedral glows bright against the dark night sky. 

_“Come with me,” Zach said, eyes bright, breath warm and sweet. He leaned in close, rested a hand on Chris’s forearm and Chris felt his heart beat wildly in his chest. Like it was trying to climb right out of his skin. Like it was trying to climb right under Zach’s._

_“Where?” Chris asked like it mattered._

_Zach’s eyes on him made his skin feel flushed and he leaned closer, couldn’t help himself as he did. Zach’s hand slid down to his wrist, fingers curling around the warm skin under his shirt cuff. “For a walk.”_

_He could almost taste the wine Zach drank on his own tongue and he licked his lips, eye’s watching Zach’s follow the movement. “Yeah, okay. Yeah.”_

Chris closes his eyes and sighs heavily, digging his phone out of his pocket. He has a text message from Zach, something about fire pits and outdoor barbecues and Chris misses LA. He misses Zach. He lifts his phone and takes a picture of the Cathedral. In the dark of the mediocre cellphone picture, it could be anywhere, but he knows. Same Cathedral, same spot. He opens the text from Zach and almost sends him the picture in reply but he hesitates long enough to let his better judgment catch up. He asks Zach who he found that was man enough to light a fire for him and gets a catty response almost instantly. It’s only late afternoon in LA and Chris hasn’t mentioned where he is. A year later and the name of the city is unspeakable between them.

He takes one last look out over the river and pockets his phone as he stands, turning his eyes to the cobblestone and starting the slow walk back to his hotel.

*

“Just tell me you’re going to see it,” Zach says with a put-upon sigh. Chris can feel his excitement behind the exasperation over the line and he smiles and shakes his head.

“Yes, Zach. I’m going to see it. You know about my thing for Paul Bettany.”

“You’re not good enough for Paul. Don’t even joke about it. But you’re going to see it, though, right? For real? For real for real?”

Chris sits back on his couch, holds his phone to his ear with one hand and reaches for his iPad with the other. “Honestly. I’m looking up show times right now.”

“Okay, good, because it’s a limited release and I want it to have a good showing and I don’t want it to fail because my friends suck at friendship and loyalty and whatever the fuck else.”

“Zach,” Chris says. He can feel the fondness seeping into his tone and he has to pause to collect himself. “We’ll go see it, okay?”

Zach’s quiet breathing is the only indication that he’s still there and Chris lets the silence settle between them. It’s not awkward. It never is between them no matter what’s happened and Chris is grateful for that. Finally, Zach sighs.

“Thank you. It means a lot to me. And it would probably mean a lot to Paul if he knew you existed.”

“Anything for him,” Chris says quietly. He buys two tickets, but he’ll go see it alone. She never asks about Zach. Only smiles softly and nods like she understands everything. He wonders if maybe she does. 

“We’ll be at the festival tomorrow. Jon’s coming out, so that’ll be nice. We’re going to make a vacation of it or something.”

An ugly feeling twists in his gut and he knows it by name. Hates it so much because Zach deserves everything he wants even if it breaks Chris’s heart for him to have it. He can’t help himself, though, because a part of him wants to pick at the scab no matter how much he knows he shouldn’t. “Oh that’s good. Which festival?”

He knows Zach too well. Zach, who never falters, never flinches. He does now and Chris feels equal parts sick and satisfied over it. “The Berlin Film Festival.”

Chris continues like it doesn’t matter, like he doesn’t enjoy the way Zach forces it out like he’s coughing up razorblades. “Good luck, then. Jon will love it there.”

Zach is quiet for a few long seconds and the silence is heavy. “I have to go, Chris. Thanks for…just thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

After they hang up, Chris changes into his workout clothes and goes out for a run. He pushes himself too hard and too fast, but the ache in his chest comes from overexertion, now. The burning and tightness from a lack of air. It’s a kind of pain that feels better. Better than the old scars from wounds that never healed right. Wounds that still feel like rock salt is being pressed into them if he lets himself dwell on it too much.

*

She’s pretty, her smile bright, her long hair blowing around her face in the breeze. She’s pointing Chris’s camera at the statues that line the bridge moving closer and closer to them. He’s been careful to keep them from crossing it. He hadn’t even wanted to come here but she had insisted and the only reason he had for avoiding this was something he couldn’t share with her. She looks up at Chris before she laughs, bare toes curling in the grass as she turns to take pictures of the cathedral. He’s glad it’s her, so when they make prints, when they hang them on the walls, she can be the one who tells Zach why. While Chris watches his face carefully.

“I could get married in this church,” she says with a happy sigh. “It’s gorgeous.”

She doesn’t say ‘we’ and a part of him loves her for that. He leans against the railing along the river and tries not to turn but he can’t help himself. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he tells her. 

_“It’s gorgeous,” Zach breathed, Chris’s suit jacket cuff pinched between his fingers._

_“Yeah,” Chris agreed, unable to tear his eyes away from Zach’s face. He smiled, turned to Chris and pulled him along the street. It wasn’t late, not by American standards, but the streets were nearly empty and they stumbled along like a pair of drunks. Maybe Zach was, the wine and champagne and cocktails. Maybe Chris was too, on touch and smiles and Zach warm and close beside him._

_The chill of winter still hung in the early spring air. It was how he justified never leaving Zach’s space. He didn’t seem to mind, though, let his pinky brush along the back of Chris’s hand below where he was still holding onto his jacket._

_“I want you to see it,” Zach insisted. They were almost running, stumbling and knocking into each other. Laughing breathlessly as they tripped their feet and flopped down onto a bench, still laughing and breathing hard. “Look, Chris, look. It’s gorgeous.”_

_“You’re gorgeous.”_

_He didn’t mean to say it, but it was no less sincere for it. Zach stopped laughing, turned to Chris, hair loose and falling over his forehead. He was smiling still, but it had gone confused like he couldn’t comprehend what he just heard. Chris wouldn’t repeat himself, not without prompting. When he thought about doing this, it was always calm and planned and well thought-out. He never considered what Zach’s response would be. He’d hoped, of course. Fantasized. He hadn’t been ready to say this, or maybe he had been ready for two years too long, but he didn’t backpedal. Didn’t look away._

_“Oh.”_

_Chris smiled, small and resigned but not hurt. He watched and it was like a light switching on behind Zach’s eyes and he said again, “Oh.”_

“You look tired,” she says, letting the camera hang on her shoulder as she reaches out and brushes her fingers along the hair behind his ear. 

He smiles dimly at her and shrugs, “Still jetlagged, I guess.”

At the hotel, he waits for her to fall asleep before sliding out of bed and going out into the sitting room. He picks up the camera and turns it on, flipping through the pictures taken that day. His heart crawls up into his throat and he bites his lip against the feeling. He reaches for his phone and types out a text to Zach. _Is Berlin ruined for you, too? _He stares at the words and realizes he doesn’t want to know what the answer is. He clears it away before the longing trapped in his chest like a swarm of bees makes him hit send.__

__He doesn’t go back to bed._ _

____

*

“I’m sorry to hear about you and Dominique,” Karl says, clapping him on the shoulder. He feels Zach’s eyes on the side of his face but he doesn’t look towards him. He hasn’t mentioned it to Zach in the month since it happened. He figured it was better he didn’t.

“Thanks, man,” he replies, sliding his sunglasses higher up his nose to block out the bright Australian sun. Karl gives his shoulder a squeeze before wandering over to bicker with Simon. He feels Zach slide up to him, then lean over the railing of the pier to look at the water below them.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Zach asks, bumping his shoulder into Chris’s.

He shrugs but doesn’t answer. The truth is, he’d been pulling away for months in preparation for this. He thought maybe it would be easier to be around him if he and Zach weren’t talking as much, if he could break up the closeness. Zach never stopped reaching out, not ever, and he has to swallow against the guilt. Zach’s hand is warm and solid on his back, rubbing up and down soothingly. He wants to melt into that touch, wants to lean against it. Almost as much as he wants it to stop.

“You were good together. Do you want to talk about it? Must have been rough,” he says, swaying against Chris so their arms press together. 

It wasn’t, not really. She was always more than he deserved and she never asked for more than he could give her. It was amicable but they won’t be friends. He didn’t even ask her why she was leaving because they both knew. After a stretch of silence, he remembers there was a question hidden in there, and he shakes his head.

“Well,” Zach continues quietly, the hurt in his tone only vaguely breaking through his words. “When you’re ready…”

_Zach kissed him, lips dry and warm and soft and Chris wasn’t ready, not at all. He laughed a little hysterically and Zach tried to pull back, but Chris hooked a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in. He glided his tongue along the seam of Zach’s lips and Zach moaned a little desperately, opened his mouth and let Chris kiss him. Kissed Chris back like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted and Chris tried to pull him closer, threaded the fingers of his other hand into the hair at the back of Zach’s head and held on. Zach nipped at his lips, moaned softly into his mouth and Chris…god. If it wasn’t the only thing Zach has ever wanted, it was surely all Chris had wanted. From the first day of filming. From the first chemistry read. From the moment they met._

“Thanks,” he says dismissively. They’re both wearing sunglasses, but Chris has made a hobby of trying to be in Zach’s line of sight so he knows he holds his focus. They stay that way for a moment before Chris grins a little and pushes away from the railing. He wanders over to where John is sitting, feeling Zach’s eyes on him the whole way.

*

He runs most mornings on the press tour. Harder and farther than he needs to, but it keeps his head clear. Last time, they worked out together. Had meals together. Saw the sights together. Now, Chris spends most nights in, goes to bed early, gets up early, avoids private interaction with Zach where possible. If he needs company, Karl and Simon are there, always willing to meet for a quiet drink in the hotel bar or a hole-in-the-wall pub in the upscale district of a foreign town. Some nights they run into Zach, Zoe and Alice, pouring themselves in from a late dinner or a night on the town. If anyone else notices that things are different, they don’t say anything.

Zach is Zach; funny and clever and sarcastic. Chris is Chris; leaning towards Zach like a flower towards the sun.

*

Moscow is cold and rainy, but Simon is so excited that Chris can’t help but be excited for him. They go sight-seeing as soon as they arrive, trying to keep up and moving to beat the jetlag. He doesn’t think of Zach, not at all, until they make it back to the hotel and Zach’s sitting on the floor outside of Chris’s room with his iPad and a bottle of water.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” 

Zach hefts himself up and leans back against the door, tablet and water bottle dangling from one hand while the other folds up between his back and the door. His head is tipped to the side and he looks at Chris in that way he has, like he sees right through him. Sees everything he’s been burying and shoving down and swallowing up so that they wouldn’t end up exactly where they are. He never wanted that, but everything else just hurts too much, makes him too angry, makes him resent Zach way more than he has a right to.

“Can I come in?”

Chris doesn’t answer and Zach only barely moves to let him reach around to open the door. The table lamp has been left on by housekeeping and Chris walks to the window to open the blackout curtains. The city glitters ten stories below them and Chris looks out the window for a moment before turning to Zach.

Zach is lying on the bed, a small sliver of skin between the waistband of his pants and the hem of his cardigan peeks out and Chris licks his lips, can’t help himself. Zach’s arms are folded behind his head and he turns dark, heavy-lidded eyes on Chris.

_Zach looked up at him and Chris was breathless from the want of him. He dipped down, kissed his neck, dragged his lips across his collar bone, up the column of his throat to kiss the tip of his chin. Zach threaded his hands into his hair and guided his head up so their lips could meet, kissed him wet and filthy with teeth and tongue and so good it made Chris’s toes curl. He breathed out Zach’s name on a sigh and Zach moaned, rocking up against him, their cocks sliding together and Chris was so close – finally skin to skin, and this was better, so much better than he thought it could be._

Chris drops down into the chair by the window, kicks his shoes off and lifts his feet onto the ottoman. He slouches down, crosses his hands over his stomach and turns to look at Zach. Zach stares back at him for several long moments before grinning. And singing. 

“A long time ago, we used to be friends but I…haven’t thought of you lately at all…”

It takes Chris a minute to place the tune, and when he does, he starts laughing. Full belly laughs that make his face hurt and his eyes crinkle. The kind of laughs that make Zach laugh because he’s laughing and it’s been so long, it feels so good that he lets it go on longer than is warranted. When he finally catches his breath, he shakes his head.

“Seriously?”

Zach just shrugs and rolls over onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow and smiling. His pants ride low on his hips and there’s enough skin exposed that Chris’s whole hand could cover it. He hates that this is still where he is. “What can I say? Kristen’s pushing this Kickstarter thing.”

“Jesus. I’ll give it ten grand if you’ll never sing that song to me again.”

“No deal,” Zach says. Chris feels his eyes on him like a physical touch and he has to work not to fidget. “It’s true though. Except the last part.”

He doesn’t ask what’s true because he knows that was just the ice breaker of the Falsely Deep Conversation Zach is going to try to have and Chris is going to try to avoid. There was a time when he wanted to have this conversation but now he just wants to bury it down and stop thinking about it. He wishes it could work that way.

“Are you okay?” Zach asks. He’s being earnest and sweet and Chris wants to be the kind of mean that ends friendships, wants to ask Zach why he cares now, wants to know what’s in it for him. Instead, he shrugs, throws Zach a lazy grin and shakes his head.

“I’m doing okay. Are you okay?”

Zach looks at him in that way he has again and this time, Chris does fidget. Finally, Zach says, “Are we okay?”

And isn’t that the million-dollar question? Were they ever okay? He thinks maybe not. He thinks that he’s been quietly resentful while Zach has glossed over everything under the pretense that never acknowledging it means it never happened. He thinks, sometimes, that he’d take it all back if he could. That he would have played it off, never asked Zach up to his room, never let himself think this was something they could have. He thinks, sometimes, that he would have changed things.

Zach looks at him, and Chris remembers with bright clarity the wet slide of his mouth, the heat in his eyes, the sound of Chris’s name on his lips when he came and he knows he wouldn’t change anything.

He smiles, and if it’s a little sad, Zach lets it go. “We’re as okay as we ever were.”

Zach hums and Chris watches him, thinks for a second he’s going to say something important, but he just shakes his head. He sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward.

“I miss how it was.”

When Chris doesn’t say anything (what’s to say?) Zach just stands, reaches out to pat Chris’s shoulder and makes his way out of the room. 

When he goes to bed that night, Chris can still smell Zach on the sheets.

*

It isn’t the same room number, but it’s the same kind of suite in the same hotel and Chris’s mood heads south fast.

 _Chris woke to the sun filtering through the curtains and reached out, fingers brushing along the cold sheets beside him. It took a moment for his brain to catch up, but when it did he scrabbled for his phone, looking at the screen and finding a text from Zach._ Last night was a mistake. Let’s forget it ever happened. I’m sorry if we weren’t on the same page. _Chris stared at the screen and read the words over and over but still couldn’t reconcile them with the Zach he slept with the night before. He went to shower, catching sight of the bruises sucked into the base of his neck in the mirror and tried not to think about what he needed to say to Zach._

_When he was clean and awake and had coffee, he replied asking Zach to call him. Two hours later after no response, he called him, but it went straight to voicemail. Later, Zoe told him that Zach wasn’t flying back with them, that he was going to stay in town for a few more days with his friends._

_It took three weeks for Zach to call and when he did, all he talked about was the new guy he met and Chris knew how to take a hint._

He doesn’t unpack his bag, but he hangs his suits in the closet and sets out his toiletries. He feels antsy and uncomfortable and wants to burn off the excess energy, but they have a photo call in two hours and there isn’t enough time.

He watches the sports channel in German and orders a sandwich up from room service. The food helps. Zach would laugh about it if Chris could stand to tell him.

He and Zach ride to the China Club together and Zach is unusually quiet. Chris isn’t so foolish as to believe that Zach is finally understanding, that Zach is quiet and contemplative, thinking of Chris as much as Chris has been thinking of him. When they pull up in front of the club, Zach turns to him, reaches out and fixes his collar, smooths it down with sure fingers that brush against Chris’s throat.

His skin tingles in the wake of Zach’s fingers. His heart jumps and slows like it isn’t sure if he’s about to die or take flight.

*

Alice is pretty in her red gown and is plenty happy to keep Chris company for most of the night. She doesn’t even mind when he falls quiet and spends much of his time nursing his bourbon and searching the crowd for a familiar face. It’s sick, he thinks, how much he wants to be around Zach even when he hates it.

“I think I’m going to head back. Jetlag.”

She smiles, small and sympathetic and he’s not sure she believes him, but she’s polite enough not to say anything. He stands, leans down to kiss her cheek and heads out of the party, the sudden silence of the cool spring night making his ears ring.

He’s only a few blocks from the hotel and there are cars lined up waiting to drive him back, but he wants to walk, takes the long way along the Spree River and past the museums. It’s the same walk from last time and he doesn’t delude himself. He knows it’s ridiculous to walk these same steps over and over again, but he can’t help himself. As much as he wants to be over this, be over Zach, he’s lived so long with this ache in his soul that he doesn’t know how he’d function without it.

It’s almost ten at night and the city is largely shut down, the streets free of most people, the buildings along the river empty but still lit up against the night sky. He keeps his pace slow, wishes he could have fonder memories of this city because it is beautiful. The brand new leaves of the trees rustle in the breeze and he looks up to watch them sway, doesn’t notice until he’s at the bench that it isn’t empty. His steps falter and his shoes scuff the ground and the man on the bench looks up at him, eyes wide, mouth open in surprise.

Chris manages to get one foot in front of the other and makes his way over to the bench, sitting down beside Zach and looking out across the water. He doesn’t say anything, just lets Zach’s eyes burn a hole into the side of his head while he looks anywhere but back at him.

“How’d you know I was here?” Zach asks finally.

“I didn’t,” Chris admits, eyes never leaving the domes of the cathedral.

Zach shifts beside him, stretching out and looking back across the water, hand on his knee, the other resting on the back of the bench so he’s half-turned to Chris. He knows it’s the moment he’s waited four long years for and Zach doesn’t look like he’s running from it.

“I think,” Chris begins, taking in a deep breath and getting his thoughts in order. “I think you were right when you said it was best we forget it. I wish I could.”

“Chris…”

“I wish I’d known what it would do to us. I was so...” Blindly in love, he almost says, but he doesn’t want to say those words and give Zach more reason to pity him. “I come here when I can. I think about what would have happened, what we would be like now if I made a different choice.”

Zach tips his head back and looks up at the stars through the trees and Chris turns to look at him. His skin is pale in the moonlight, dark circles standing out in sharp contrast under his deep eyes. Chris still thinks he’s the best thing he’s ever seen. Finally, he turns his head to the side, eyes firmly on Chris and says, “I’ve been here, too. After. Every time I’m in Berlin, I come here and I think…”

Chris waits for several minutes, wants to give Zach the chance to say something else, anything else, but he doesn’t. 

He stands and Zach reaches out, wraps his fingers around Chris’s wrist and holds on. Chris looks at him, and Zach looks like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out, so Chris smiles wanly and pulls his hand away. He turns, walking away from Zach and heading back to the hotel.

*

Chris’s eyes shoot open and it takes him a second to recognize the sound as knocking. He groans and kicks the covers off, flips on the lights and stumbles to the door, rubbing his eyes with one hand and reaching around to pull his underwear out of his ass with the other. He looks through the peep hole and rolls his eyes at the fish-eyed version of Zach he sees on the other side. He flips the privacy lock and pulls the door open, letting Zach in so that anyone who walks by doesn’t have to see him in his underwear.

Zach charges in, eyes a little wild, hair even more so, like he’s been running his hands through it since Chris left him by the river. Zach turns to him and rolls his eyes.

“Why aren’t you wearing pants?”

“It’s two in the morning and I was asleep. Why would I be wearing pants?” Chris asks, voice husky and sleep thick.

Zach glares, “How are we supposed to have a conversation when you’re basically naked?”

“We’re having a conversation? I thought we had a conversation.”

“You’re this…you’re a douchebag, and your complexes have complexes and you’re this earnest intellectual who only dates models because they make you feel smart and useful but you love a challenge more than any of that and I like you. Despite your numerous shortcomings, I like you.”

“Thanks?” Chris says, not doing much to keep the incredulity off his face.

“No, Chris,” Zach says, reaching out and resting his hands on Chris’s bare shoulders. “I _like_ you.”

“Wow. That was impressive. Look, Zach, it’s…it’ll be okay. Just go to bed or whatever,” Chris says, his irritation creeping up to the surface. He brushes Zach’s hands away and gestures to the door, but Zach shakes his head.

“No, that’s,” he sighs and digs his fingers into his hair again, making it stand up awkwardly. “I’m not supposed to like you.”

“Not better.”

“Chris. You were this wonderful, untouchable thing in my life and I firmly placed you in the Off-Limits category but then you went and made yourself very much not off-limits, which kind of fucked with me, and I’ve been here before. I’ve done this with other guys but you meant more to me than they ever did and I know how this story ends. You can’t just be gay for the right person. That’s not how this goes and I’m sure your intentions were good, but…it was just easier to make it a one-time thing than to have you break my heart three months later when this – me – when I didn’t fit into the vision of how you see yourself. I didn’t want to push you into something I wanted that could never have been serious for you. I didn’t want to be your experiment because if you had asked, Chris, if you had asked me, I would have given you anything. Because I like you.”

“Better,” Chris concedes, his throat feeling dry and tight at Zach’s admission. Zach smiles, stepping a little bit closer to Chris. “But you didn’t even give me a chance to…You remember I told you about Jeff from college?”

Zach grins and Chris matches it, remembering their late night game of Never Have I Ever. “With the mouth like a Hoover. Yes, I remember Jeff From College.”

“We were together. Together together. For almost three years.”

“Oh.”

“Brought him home to meet my parents and everything,” Chris says with a fond smile. He looks at Zach’s face, open and hopeful and he sobers a little before he continues. “It’s not an experiment. I know what I want.”

“Oh.”

“Which I would have told you if you had just let me. You know. Ever.” Zach opens his mouth to speak, but Chris holds his hand up, effectively cutting him off. “If you say ‘Oh’ again, I’m kicking you out.”

Zach’s eyes narrow, but he’s smiling. “I was going to say that I’m sorry and that I was an ass but now you’re the ass, so. Let’s call it even, never talk about feelings again and get to the part where we kiss and make up.”

Zach reaches out for Chris’s hand and Chris lets him take it, lets himself be pulled closer to Zach, close enough to smell his cologne and his shampoo and his skin, warm and clean and more familiar than it has any right to be. He knows it’s a bad idea, that they should both go to their own rooms, sleep it off and talk again in the morning when they’ve both come down a bit, but then Zach’s other hand is cupping his cheek and tilting his chin and his lips are warm and soft and Chris can’t help the way he throws an arm around Zach’s neck to keep him close because he’s wanted this for too long.

Zach breaks the kiss and wraps his arms around Chris, hugging him tightly. Chris hugs back, slow and unsure and Zach laughs a little, presses a kiss to Chris’s neck and says, “Now that’s how you hug.”

Chris laughs and pushes Zach away, but Zach steps into him, uses both hands to curl is fingers around the back of Chris’s neck, his thumbs rubbing along his jaw, and kisses him again. Chris wraps his hands around Zach’s wrists and sways into the kiss, opening his mouth and moaning and his life feels like it fits him again, like it did before. Zach tilts his head, kisses him deeper and turns them, walking them back towards the middle of the room. The backs of Chris’s knees hit the bed and Zach slides over him as he lays back on the bed.

Chris breaks the kiss and pulls himself up the bed so he rests against the pillows and Zach moves up his body, kissing up his chest to his neck and along his jaw.

“I think it cheapens the whole thing if we have sex now,” Chris mumbles, sliding his hands up and under Zach’s suit jacket so he can untuck his shirt. 

“I’m okay with being cheap,” Zach grins and drags his lips over Chris’s jaw and up to his ear, “Besides, we’re not going to have sex, it’ll be like a hand shake…”

Chris laughs, the feel of Zach’s smile against his skin making him sigh. “You’re the worst.”

Which is the opposite of what Chris thinks when he gets Zach naked and they’re kissing like they’re never going to stop. Zach’s hands move over every inch of his body and he kisses him like it’s a penance, touches him like he never wants to let him go. It’s quick and not enough and just right when Chris is coming over Zach’s fist, moaning into his mouth. He keeps one hand on Zach’s ass while Zach fucks against Chris’s stomach, coming with a moan of Chris’s name, burying his face into the crook of his neck and falling against him. They lie side-by-side for a while, staring up at the ceiling until Zach rolls over him, kisses him like he means it which is perfect because Chris has always meant it. They clean up with Chris’s discarded underwear and Zach pulls the covers up and over them both.

“So help me, if you’re gone in the morning…”

It’s a joke but so close to the truth that it falls flat. Zach leans over, presses a kiss to Chris’s shoulder but doesn’t say anything. Chris falls asleep with his fingers curled around Zach’s wrist, keeping him close.

*

“So is this going to be a thing with us, now?” Chris asks, sitting down on the bench next to Zach. His flight had come in three hours earlier when Zach had been on set. Zach had wanted to meet him at the airport but it was just easier this way. And a little more sentimental, not that Zach would admit to being responsible for that.

Zach turns to look at Chris, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses, but his lips are curled in a smile. Zach points to the fries in Chris’s hand, wrapped up in a paper cone with ketchup globbed on top. “What? You getting fat? You know, that’s a deal breaker for me, right? You get soft around the middle and we’re done.”

Chris laughs, tipping his head back against the back of the bench and he shifts, looking down when he feels Zach digging around in his fries. He looks up as Zach shoves a couple in his mouth and Chris grins.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Zach leans forward and Chris reaches out, resting his hand on the back of Zach’s neck to pull him in for a kiss. Zach breaks the kiss and presses their foreheads together for a second before pulling back.

“Yeah. I guess it’ll be a thing.”

Chris looks out across the river, the Cathedral looming tall and gorgeous behind the trees. Zach’s hand is warm on his thigh and they’ll only have a few days together here before Chris has to fly to New Zealand but it’ll be good. It’ll be so good.

It’ll be the best thing that’s happened to either one of them.


End file.
